


Holocausta Alarum

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (whatever you wanna call it), A bit more poetic if you will, Enochian, Gen, Languages other than English, Latin, Lucifer's Fall, Morningstar - Freeform, The Cage, i don't even know what to tag, just a few, not enough for you to be thoroughly confused, tbh, the Pit, though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2682647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He, like all the other angels, had a star. Only, unlike all the other angels, his was the purest - the most beautiful.</p><p>In Enochian, it was know as 'Luebeluisc'.<br/>In Hebrew, it could roughly be translated into 'טהור'.<br/>In Greek, 'φωτεινότερο αστέρι'.<br/>Latin - 'Stella Clarissima'.</p><p>Brightest Star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holocausta Alarum

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at writing something a little more poetic than usual... It's also me procrastinating the next chapter for The Adams Family.  
> *Sigh* Writing's hard.  
> I wish I could say this was thought out, planned, and carefully put together - that only the best words would do, however I would be lying, and lying is a sin ;P
> 
> In all honesty, this was thought up after trying (and then failing) to write my History paper on Hypatia (literally the coolest woman in the whole universe, you should totally check her out), which is kinda maybe sorta due at the end of next week and I haven't really gotten anywhere with it. Whoo, yeah. This was also inspired by snippets of Samifer fanfictions that I had read the previous night, as well as an article on Nebulae I had to read in Science class. I'll try and find all the fanfiction that inspired this, however that may take a while as I make sure that accessing my history on my iPod is as difficult as humanly possible (well, I mean, I have to - I'm reading gay fanfiction, what do you expect, bruh?).
> 
> I'd like to thank MuggleBeta, my Beta, for helping me. I greatly appreciate it, gurl. 
> 
> Please leave me Kudos or a comment, feedback is always appreciated!

He was known as The Morningstar, beautiful, bright, pure. His name had not yet become something dark or vile, it was sung throughout Heaven - The Morningstar was ethereal and virtuous. Fledglings would crowd around him to bask in his holiness, and he would laugh, for he was carefree, he was happy, and he was _whole_. He praised his Father, and his Father's creations - for everything He created was divine. His brothers, Heaven, The Garden, Earth, the universe surrounding them. The Morningstar loved everything his Father created, but none as much as He himself.

 

~*~

 

~~everything apart from those _disgusting_ humans~~

 

~*~

 

He, like all the other angels, had a star. Only, unlike all the other angels, his was the purest - the most beautiful. His star shone brightest in the sky, and angels would gasp at it's splendor. It was the star that would light up the night sky, even on a cloudy night. All angel's had a name they gave their star, a word formed from Enochian. Michael's was  _Sihryusz_ , Raphael's was  _Aylfacent_ , Gabriel's  _Belfacent_. But his? He did not chose the name, as Michael merely looked upon the shining light, before uttering:  _Luebeluisc_. And thus, The Morningstar's star was given a name,  _Luebeluisc_ , and Michael having thought of the name made it even more special. The Morningstar treasured his gift even more, for it had come from love. The love of his Father, and the love of his brother.

 

In Hebrew, it would come to roughly translate into _טהור_. 

In Greek, _φωτεινότερο αστέρl_.

Latin - _Stella Clarissima_.

 

~*~

 

_Brightest Star._

 

~*~

 

He remembers that fateful day.

 

He remembers having hated those pitiful, disgusting humans from the very beginning - remembers having refused to love them more than his Father. His  _Father_ , someone so whole and pure and perfect that he couldn't fathom however he was to bow down to such  _worthlessness._  He remembers Gabriel's fearful look, he remembers Gabriel's Grace reaching out to touch his. He remembers Michael's passive face, remembers Michael's coldness. He remembers Raphael bowing his head in shame, in shame of The Morningstar's disobedience. He remembers the taste of copper in his mouth, the anger boiling through him, steady Enochian pouring through his mouth.

 

_Ech szi gro evahy omnsitw karrasz?_

How could you ask us to bow down to such filth?

 

_Stu twok vfi acadder sae, nahlt kor _fahsh_ gro!_

I will never love them more than you!

 

~*~

 

He can still see the pain and sorrow in his Father's eyes, he can still feel the soar of love coursing through his veins. 

He shouldn't still love him. Not after all that has happened.

 

~*~

 

He begged Michael to see sense, begged him to stop following so blindly. Surely he must love his Father more than the cockroaches below?

 

Michael told him to leave, that he would obey their Father no matter what asked of him, that he was a  _good_ son.

 

The Morningstar scoffed.

 

_Gro gyotu lures qar daejm ios Niah._

You wouldn't obey every order from him.

 

_Gro gyotu zarathd sta, gyot gro?_

You wouldn't hurt me, would you?

 

 

He wishes he'd never asked.

He shouldn't have asked.

 

~*~

 

_Eka, stu gyotu._

 

~*~

 

Yes, I would.

 

~*~

 

They continued to fight. Gabriel left. Raphael hid himself in Heaven. The angels strayed away from him. He no longer heard praise from his Father.

 

Yet he didn't give up. Surely they could see how  _wrong_ these humans were? How flawed they were? How utterly sinful? Why would they not think for themselves? Why would they not love Him more? Him - the divinity. How  _could_ they not love Him more? Slowly, eventually, he began to think that maybe He wasn't so all powerful, that perhaps He wasn't so pure. Maybe, just maybe, he could overthrow his Father. Destroy the filth on Earth below, restore peace to Heaven, have his brothers back. _  
_

 

He missed his family, and it hurt him to see them avoid him, _fear_ him.

~~they should have feared me~~

 

He wanted to hold Michael again, not fight him.

~~why pity him? has he not been the cause of my distress?~~

 

 ~~~~He wanted Gabriel and Raphael back, wanted to say sorry.

~~they did not stand with me, they are as bad as Michael.~~

 

If they can't see why they're wrong, then I'll make them.

~~if they refuse to listen, i'll fight them.~~

 

~*~

 

They  _will_ bow down to me.

 

~*~

 

He remembers the worst day of all. And he hates himself for it.

 

He remembers the day he fell from Heaven.

 

~*~

 

 _Fire_.

 

It was like fire coursing through his body - only a hundred times worse. He could not think of any word to describe this, not even in Enochian.

 

 _Cold_.

 

Michael's eyes, they were cold - devoid of all emotion.

 

Then, Michael reached down and took his left wing into his hands. The Morningstar could barely register the babble of pleads for mercy, pleads for forgiveness. Michael said nothing, showed nothing. He was a good son, he would do as their Father asked, without hesitation or second thought. As all good sons should.

 

The Morning Star screamed as every bone in his wing was broken, twisted, _ripped_. He wailed as his feathers were pulled - _no_ \- torn from him. His wings - his beautiful, bright, gorgeous _wings -_ ruined. Then Michael repeated the same actions on his right wing.

 

He did not cry - angels could not in their true form - when Michael hissed " _N_ _aethe_ " at him. Besides, it was true, as much as it hurt to come from the brother whom he loved the most.

 

And when Michael took out his sword, and yanked his destroyed and ruined wings from him, he didn't utter a sound. He took it, accepted his fate, yet allowed the hatred to boil inside of him.

 

Michael cast him in the Pit, he bellowed his rage, hurt, betrayal, and anger. He hated them,  _hated them all_.

 

His Father, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, the other angels. He hated them. Pure, unabashed loathing.

 

~*~

 

His star,  _Luebeluisc_ , suffered a similar fate. When The Morningstar was cast into the Pit - and during his fall - it collapsed. It exploded with a ray of colours that destroyed neighboring stars, other angel's stars, before shifting in a most horrible way.

 

It became a black hole.

 

And not unlike The Morningstar himself, they changed its name.

 

~*~

 

 _Holocausta Alarum_.

 

~*~

 

Burnt Wings.

**Author's Note:**

> The word Michael whispered into his ear in Enochian was "broken", which I thought was important to add.
> 
> Once again I'd like to thank my Beta, MuggleBeta for helping me with this godawful fic.
> 
> Please leave Kudos, and maybe even a comment!  
> Send me requests/suggestions/prompts, as I am always looking for new ideas.  
> Thanks for reading.


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